Woke up at seven--Bruiser scratching at the door. Woke again at nine. Went out for milk, bananas, a raspberry filled doughnut for the historian, a chocolate bar for my son. Made and ate pancakes.
Drove down to see my parents, with the happy added surprise that my two sisters and several of my nieces were at the house when I arrived. We ate lunch, talked about college plans for the nieces. I admired the new shutters on my parents' windows.
In the car, accompanied by Ira Glass and this beautiful story (the audio essay will be available tomorrow here). My little cold that I thought I had Mucinex'd into submission made a return on the drive home. I came in the door, greeted Bruiser, heard about the historian's day, and fell into sleep. No movie for us, then.
Woke. We ate leftover saag paneer and shrimp tikka masala from earlier in the week. Watched L.A. Story on cable. 20% too much whimsy, but also this, which redeems most of it. Finished Thursday's crossword from the New York Times. Ate two Thin Mints and five Trefoils.
Now: ready for more sleep more sleep more sleep.